Unnaturally Bare
by Leafy Lincoln
Summary: It has come to the company's observation that their burglar doesn't own a pair of boots.


"Doesn't he own boots?"

Fíli and Kíli both look up from their horses, just about to unpack, along with a couple other dwarves in their company. Ori's question rang out rather random, the young dwarf standing by his horse with his pack untouched, staring at the hobbit of his inquiry.

Bilbo Baggins, personal burglar of the company, was in a deep conversation with Gandalf not too far off, setting up his bedroll as the tall wizard talked. Neither of the two were focused on the dwarves who had taken a moment to stare at the smaller companion.

"I don't understand Master Baggins." Ori complained, turning to his brothers, "Don't his feet hurt?"

All he received were shrugs before the two went to start the fire for their meal.

Kíli came up to the scribe, crossing his arms, "You know I never bothered with it…"

Joining his brother, Fíli took the same position, head tilting, "Master Boggins doesn't look at all bothered by it, if you ask me."

Ori struggled to find words, "How could he not be bothered? This ground isn't meant to be walked on barefoot."

After a long day of riding, Thorin had made the decision to camp early, or else face the wrath of wargs hunting long into the night; picking their current location of a rocky cliff-side on the small mountain they were trekking. Sharp rocks and twigs littered the ground, forcing the dwarves to sweep it clean before they lay down their bedrolls. It was a wonder Bilbo wasn't crying about the pain or complaining about recieving any petty injuries.

Bofur offered the same shrug Nori and Dori gave, "It must be a hobbit thing. No hobbits in those hills were wearing any shoes, as far as I can remember."

"But it's impossible for our burglar to not have boots!"

"Maybe he doesn't need them. Makes him less a burglar." Fíli nodded at the logic of his brother's suggestion.

"Why don't you lads go and ask Mr. Bilbo?" Balin, logical as always, interjected and offered his advice. He only sighed when Ori shook his head.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Oh, c'mon Ori, it'd be fine." Fíli pushed the scribe toward the hobbit's direction, ignoring the objections and stuttering, "It's not like he'd be offended."

"Or he could be immensely offended." Kíli butted in, "It'd only be the bond you have with him shattered because of your dangerous curiosity. But don't let your mind wonder to such thoughts."

With that said the awkward dwarf was shoved in the hobbit's direction, arms flailing and failing to keep his balance. He rammed into the small hobbit, sending him sprawling on the ground, the pipe he was preparing thrown out of his grasp and into a nearby bush.

Apologies raced out of Ori's mouth, stumbling over one another in their rush to be heard. He prepared for the worst, face cringing when Bilbo finally succeeded to heave himself into a standing position. The small hobbit didn't seem to comprehend Ori and his sputtering apologies, head instantly whipping around in search of his pipe, finally spying it a few feet away.

It wasn't until he had quickly picked up the thing, brushing off the dirt with such gentleness, not so unlike how mothers would shower attention onto their babes, that he noticed Ori. The burglar quickly brushed off the pleas of forgiveness, eyeing the chuckling princes behind the dwarf, stating "no harm, no foul" with a reassuring smile. There was a small pause where the dwarf looked near tears, hands fumbling and twisting in unsure gestures. Bilbo, unnerved by the growing silence, began to ask whatever the matter was wro-

"Why do you walk barefoot, Master Bilbo?" The question crashed into the air before Bilbo had finished speaking. And yet, just as the hobbit opened his mouth to answer Ori seemed to comprehend how rude his inquiry had been, quickly cutting off the other's words once more, "I mean to say- that is… why- if it isn't- you don't have… I- I was wondering… why."

Bilbo seemed confused, "My feet? Is something wrong with them?" He looked down at them, only seeing the normality of them, curly hair and all.

"You're not wearing any shoes."

Bilbo's frown deepened, "Of course I'm not wearing any."

"So it is offending, is it Master Boggins?" Kíli and Fíli had decided to come jogging over, keen eyes zoned in on Bilbo. "We knew it was."

"What's offending?"

"Your feet."

"My feet are offending you?"

"No, but Ori finds your lack of shoes offending." From the looks Kíli was receiving from the scribe, his 'help' wasn't appreciated, nor was his brothers.

Bilbo raised his hands, pipe still in grasp, "I don't know what any of you are going on about. Can someone else please explain to me why my feet are offending?" His expression was a pleading one as he turned to the other, older dwarves; he was only given a few laughs and shakes of the head.

A low chuckle was heard and both hobbit and dwarves looked up to see a laughing Gandalf, who was observing them with much enjoyment.

"My dear Bilbo, they are wondering about your feet. Unlike you, their feet more closely resemble those of man, or elf." The gray wizard ignored the sudden objections from some of the dwarves concerning the comparison- mainly Dwalin and Gloín. "They must wear boots and such that are able to endure whatever it is life's journey throws their way, while you stand there, well, unnaturally bare."

The hobbit lifted up one of his feet, mindlessly picking off a bur that had embedded itself into his foot hair. "Unnaturally?" His cheeks puffed out momentarily.

"Unnaturally natural, I assure you. They are simply unaware of hobbits and their… advantages over others." Heads snapped in their direction once the word 'advantages' was uttered.

"Advantages you say?" Bofur suddenly popped in between the two, scaring the hobbit a few paces back, his back bumping into the bulky figures of the princes. He brought his hand up and pointed meaningfully at the two,a stern expression settling on his face; already spotting the dangerous gleam in their eyes.

"Now look here, you tw-"

The hobbit's yell of surprise rang throughout the camp, drawing the rest of the company's attention, who had the amusing privilege of seeing a very disgruntled Bilbo hanging upside down by his feet, a very determined Kili and Fili grasping his ankles. Bilbo struggled for the life of him, twisting every which way, to try and repossess his feet, but to no success. Threats with no backbone were made as he fumbled about, straightening and adjusting his clothes in an attempt to regain what was left of his dignity.

"What advantages do you speak of Master wizard?" Bilbo's head brushed the stubble of grass poking out of the rocky ground as he was lowered a fraction so the others could better inspect his feet.

"Well, they are quite large." One of his captors muttered, the other responding with a simple, "Quite." They prodded the large feet, frowning at their leathery soles; Bofur leaned in and wiggled a toe.

Ori got down onto his knees, so that he was at the same level as the hobbit, "I'm so sorry about this, Master Baggins. I was just worried about your feet." Before more could be said, the young dwarf was pulled back, and all Bilbo saw were boots of other dwarves as replacements.

"That's some tough skin!" Noises of agreement sounded out at the statement. Bifur had waddled over and started chucking various objects at the soles of his feet with impressive accuracy. It wasn't until the dwarves had moved onto testing his feet's endurance with a feather that Bilbo crossed his arms.

"Are you quite done?" The hobbit's frown deepened, his tone one of irritation. Kíli kept on brushing the feather to his feet, an expectant expression on his face. "Honestly, now, what good would that even do?"

"To see if your feet are ticklish, of course." Fíli offered that Kíli try 'more towards the middle' to get a better reaction, to which Kíli moved the feather accordingly.

"To see- To see if my feet are… ticklish?" Bilbo appeared to have heard a ridiculous joke. His reaction seemed to deflate some of the dwarves, now unsure on who was actually playing the joke and who was the butt of it. "Who has ever heard of ticklish feet?"

"No one in the Shire it seems." Gandalf laughed out, waving his staff in a silent order to return the hobbit to his feet. Bilbo huffed as he was placed back on his feet, his hands immediately wiping nonexistent dust of his breeches, muttering about the hours it will take to scrub the dwarf smell off his feet.

"Accept our apologies, Master Bilbo," Balin butted in, patting the hobbit on the back, "we've just never dealt with the strangeness of hobbits." He, aside from all the other dwarves, was the most respectful.

Gandalf waved off the dwarves, and a command from Thorin had them back to their previous duties. Before Ori followed the others, he gave Bilbo another once over, lingering over his bare feet, "You're sure you will be alright, Master Baggins?"

With a small sigh, the hobbit nodded an affirmative, "No doubt I will be able to endure all that comes my way."

The scribe only hesitated a moment before leaving to finish his work, looking back once or twice. Bilbo followed the dwarf to the fire that had been started, fully intent on lighting his pipe and enjoying a good smoke. He kicked sharp stones out of his path mindlessly, doing the same for flying embers, unobservant of the eyes that glanced his way.

His feet weren't brought up again, however. The dwarves seemingly accepting the oddness that was their burglar.

"Ticklish feet." Bilbo softly chortled, shaking his head as he walk off, footsteps making no sound. Gandalf could only stifle a chuckle. "How absurd."


End file.
